


Fighting and Making Up

by el3anorrigby



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Fictober, Illya cannot resist it, M/M, Napoleon’s Curls, Resolved Arguments, Spies being stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 13:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el3anorrigby/pseuds/el3anorrigby
Summary: It bothers Illya when Napoleon puts that space between them after an argument, although that isn’t Napoleon’s intention at all.





	Fighting and Making Up

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a tumblr meme entry and also Henry’s bedhair on his instagram post XD

Illya woke with a start and panicked when he found Napoleon’s side of the bed empty. They had argued last night because Illya had gone behind Napoleon’s back, persuading Waverly to pull the American out from an impending mission. Napoleon shouldn’t be the one marking a former Russian cipher clerk who was accused of selling his country’s secrets to the West. It should be Illya. And Napoleon could not see Illya’s reasonings when Gaby had told him what Illya had done.

“I would be better equipped in this situation, Cowboy. Waverly understood this, why can’t you?”

“Because you’re just a petty, jealous Russian!” 

Their tempers had flared, with Illya saying some hurtful words in return, leading to Napoleon leaving Illya’s apartment in a huff. Illya hadn’t bothered going after him because Napoleon would come back. He always would. And it was, after all, a stupid argument. But now as he sat there alarmed, Illya knew he had been wrong. Napoleon wasn’t there and Illya’s gut tightened with worry. He was about to dash out from the bed when the smell of coffee suddenly filled the room and some rustlings were heard from behind the slightly ajar door. Illya stilled for a second before he saw it swung open and Napoleon stood there at the threshold in his pyjamas holding a tray with two mugs of coffee on it. 

“Good morning.”

Illya recalled the heavy feeling hanging in the air when Napoleon had gone missing once during a mission just after they had gotten together. It was the worst he had felt in ages, everything he had seen was a diffusing of colours and blurring shapes, just like his thoughts had been then; a jumbled mess. It was not a pleasant memory at all and the feeling had recurred earlier.

Napoleon ought to know what he had made him go through.

“I’ve made coffee and some buttered toast for you. Would have prepared something else but there was nothing useful in your fridge. You should go grocery shopping, Peril.”

Napoleon was acting as if nothing had happened and this annoyed Illya. He was about to reprimand the man when Napoleon moved towards the bedside table, placing the tray on it carefully before turning to face Illya. He smiled at the frowning man, apologetic. 

“Sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have left like that.”

So, Napoleon _was_ sorry. 

“You didn’t come to bed,” Illya spoke, the only thing he could say, with a slight accusing tone in his voice. Napoleon was a little surprised by it, didn’t think that would be the thing troubling Illya. 

“I thought that maybe,” he murmured, “that you needed some space from me”. 

Illya tensed at Napoleon’s words. “How could you think that? That is the last thing I want!”

“Sorry again, Peril.”

As Napoleon stood there before him, Illya noticed something different that morning with him, something that was hard for Illya to lay his fingers on. Maybe it was the light morning stubble on his jaw, or maybe it was that goddamn morning hair of his.

And Illya just kept on staring.

“Illya,” Napoleon broke the silence, pulling the side of the blanket that was still half covering Illya’s lap. He took a seat beside the Russian who was now sat up properly against the headboard. “You were right. It should be you leading the mission and not me. I was being stubborn. You got me.”

Illya sighed. It could have been so much easier if Napoleon had come to this conclusion last night. But the entire thing had not made Illya love him any less. In fact, Illya was sure he had never loved him more. 

“I am not mad,” Illya began and as he said it, he could feel the tension in the air deflate like a balloon as it soared through the air. 

“Truce?”

Illya’s heart softened almost immediately seeing Napoleon’s puppy eyes with that slight pout on his lips.

“Do not run away from me again,” Illya warned, his voice softer than Napoleon had ever heard him. Illya sounded vulnerable. And this made Napoleon more guilty than ever.

“How can I make it up to you?”

Illya just shook his head. “Just don’t do it again.”

Before Napoleon could say anything, Illya reached out to playfully pat at the tousle of curls atop Napoleon’s head, combing his fingers through them, untangling where they had knotted messily. “I assume you slept on couch? Hair is a mess.”

Napoleon laughed, swatting away Illya’s hand. “Yeah, and sleeping with you on this bed would make a difference? Could tame my wild curls?”

Illya did not say a thing. He only turned so he could properly face Napoleon while pushing away the locks of hair falling over Napoleon’s forehead. Napoleon closed his eyes when Illya’s fingers ran up and tugged on his locks gently, tilting his head back for a kiss. 

“Can always tame you,” Illya murmured, smiling against Napoleon’s lips. His hand that was in Napoleon’s hair was rubbing gentle circles on his crown, subtly making Napoleon purr. And then Illya’s breath was hot on the nape of Napoleon’s neck, gliding his lips there and the argument of last night was instantly forgotten. 

“I like seeing you with bed hair,” Illya then whispered in Napoleon’s ear.

“Well, I guess we’ve got no choice but to stay in bed all day then,” Napoleon muttered in mock resignation, rolling his eyes and somehow it made Illya laugh, his heart light as air, a stark contrast from his angry mood last night. 

How Napoleon could elicit both feelings truly well was a wonder, but Illya would not change one single thing about him.


End file.
